


It's a Thing We Do

by Telesilla



Series: A Thing or Two About the Giants [6]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Rough Sex, Roughhousing, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You planned this, you rotten bastard!" <em>-- Buster Posey to Matt Cain</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Thing We Do

_September 7, 2012_   
_off day at home_

It starts, like it almost always does, with a fight over the remote control. It's not like Buster doesn't know that he's a control freak (no pun intended), but it still bugs the hell out of him when Matt won't let him have the damn remote.

"Damnit, give me that. I don't want to watch NASCAR Now."

"Tough shit. I don't want to watch fucking Duck Dynasty or whatever weird crap you're gonna put on."

"C'mon, Matt. Give it over!" Buster shoves at Matt with his shoulder.

"No!" Matt says, shoving back.

Buster knows where this is going now and he lunges over Matt to grab for the remote. Matt stuffs it into the couch cushions and grabs Buster around the waist.

There's a reason the coffee table in the den is one of those padded ottoman things; it doesn't hurt too much when Buster twists away from Matt and crashes into it before hitting the floor. He shoves the table out of the way, grabs one of Matt's thighs and drags him down onto the floor. Matt's got a few pounds and a couple of inches on Buster, but Buster's in better shape so they're pretty evenly matched.

With a hard shove, Buster tries to roll Matt over, but Matt shoulders him in the stomach and the air goes out of Buster with a sharp whoosh. "Fuck you," he gasps. Matt's going to pin him if he's not careful, so he reaches up, grabs Matt's ear and twists it hard.

"OW!" Matt yells, grabbing Buster's wrist. He pulls Buster's hand away from his ear before Buster yanks his wrist out of Matt's grasp.

Matt's fired up now and when he lunges at Buster again, Buster has to scramble backward fast. Any chance he has at getting away, however, is lost when he comes up against the sofa. He's probably fucked, but he goes on the offense anyway, pushing off the sofa and trying to bowl Matt over.

Things get confusing for a couple of minutes; they're rolling around on the floor, neither of them able to get the upper hand. Buster's trying to get his legs around Matt's--a move he vaguely remembers seeing at an FSU wrestling match once--but when he tries to flip Matt over, Matt squirms away. When he lunges at Buster, Buster's ready for him; he gets his arms around Matt's waist and pins him on his back.

"C'mon...say it!"

"As if," Matt says. He pushes up hard, and does something with his hips that puts Buster off balance. And then, suddenly, with no real understanding of how he got here, Buster's staring at the carpet, his arm wrenched up hard behind him.

"You say it."

"Fuck you."

Matt cranks his arm a little harder, to the point where it almost hurts. "Say it."

There are three things Buster can say here. If he says "game tomorrow" or something like it, Matt will stop, they'll have a beer and one of them will blow the other. If Buster says "fuck you" again, Matt will keep going, trusting Buster to tell him when it gets to be too much. While Buster's thinking it over Matt shoves up against Buster's ass and growls, "feel that? You know you want it."

Matt's not the only one with a hard on and their combined weight is pressing Buster's dick against the floor. He squirms a little, which doesn't really help, except that Matt seems to like it. "Could just rub off on you this way, leave you horny."

And then there's the third thing Buster can say. "Uncle," he mutters into the carpet.

"Not good enough," Matt says with another shove.

"Okay fine! Just fuck me already."

"Mmmm, yeah," Matt says, finally letting go of Buster's arm. He reaches down and tugs at Buster's hip hard. "Up."

"Do it down here," Buster says, still breathing hard. "Do me on the floor, Matt." Because Buster wants it right now and he wants it right here. As he gets into position he looks over his shoulder to see....

"You planned this, you rotten bastard!"

"Yup." Matt's expression is smug as he pops the cap of the lube bottle he pulled out of his pocket. "You're so easy to rile up."

All Buster can do is nod his head in agreement because really, it's hard to argue that you don't want it when you're on your elbows and knees with your ass right up there for someone to fuck. He probably could have fought harder and on some days he would, but now he's in the mood to take it and take it hard. "I'll get you for this later."

"Counting on it, babe."

Matt pulls Buster's sweats out of the way and then Buster's shivering as he feels that first cool trickle of lube. When Matt starts teasing him, running slick fingers over his hole, Buster takes a deep breath because it's just as good as the first time Kristen touched him there.

At least, he thinks with a smile, he's not going to pop off the way he did that time. He'd been so shocked that he'd almost choked her and had ended up coming all over her face. Embarrassing to say the least, but it didn't keep her from doing that, and even more, again and again. If it weren't for Kristen, he wouldn't know how this felt, what it was like to want it so much. Hell, if it weren't for her, he wouldn't be here, bucking up to get more of Matt's fingers inside him.

Doesn't mean he's a pushover though. "C'mon," he mutters. "I could do better than this."

And yeah, that works; Buster gasps as Matt pushes a second finger into him. "I don't have to do this," Matt says. "I could skip this stage altogether."

"Yeah," Buster says. "You could."

Apparently that's just what Matt wants to hear. He tosses the lube aside, wipes his fingers on Buster's sweats and then grabs Buster's hips. "Gonna fuck you into next week."

"You damn well...oh fuck!"

Matt pushes in hard, his hands tight on Buster's hips. He doesn't give Buster time to get used to it, either; he started hard and that's the way he keeps going. Although Matt's hips are slapping against Buster's ass with each steady thrust, it's not enough; Buster shoves back to meet him. The pace is punishing and even brutal--it's fucking perfect.

Each hard stroke is taking Buster further and further out of his head. All the tensions, all the worries, all the weight of batting averages and scouting reports and that sense that he's carrying the expectations of the team and all the fans on his back, that if they fail, it's all on him...all of it is fading away. Matt's fucking him right out of his mind and back into his body; Buster's suddenly aware of his knees and the rough feel of the carpet on his elbows. He chokes out Matt's name and a couple of swear words and then he can't talk anymore. He can't do anything but feel; he's down to nothing but each moment, each thrust, each rough gasp from Matt, each flex of Matt's fingers on his hips. He's here and Matt's fucking him and it's so good, it's so _real _that there's no room for anything else.__

__When Matt reaches down and grabs Buster's shoulder, Buster goes with it, letting Matt pull him back and up until his back's against Matt's chest. Matt can't fuck him quite as hard in this position but the change in angle more than makes up for it. And it allows Matt to bite and kiss his way across Buster's neck and shoulder. Buster keens and shudders as Matt finds just the right spot to bite and the hint of pain is just one more thing keeping Buster here and _present_._ _

__Matt's hand closing around Buster's dick comes as a surprise; Buster's suddenly aware of how close he is and he almost doesn't want it to end. He wants to stay in this place, wants to live in this moment forever, but then the rush of sensation finally catches up with him. Matt gives Buster's cock a couple of rough strokes and bites down on his shoulder and, just like that, Buster's coming so hard it feels a little like dying._ _

__Buster goes boneless after that, still not all there when Matt grabs his hips and thrusts up into him one more time before he's swearing and muttering Buster's name as he comes. He keeps his arms around Buster and for a long time they sit like that. Finally Buster leans his head back onto Matt's shoulder and says, "how do you always know?"_ _

__"I just do," Matt says as he nuzzles Buster's neck. "You start to look...I dunno, a little brittle or something."_ _

__"So your response is fuck the hell out of me?"_ _

__Matt's arms tighten about him. "It's worked so far."_ _

__"Matt Cain," Buster murmurs. "Fucking Buster Posey all better since August of 2010."_ _

__"It's a rough job...."_ _

__"Hey, you're not the one with rug burn on your elbows."_ _

__"Poor you." Leaning in, Matt kisses the bite mark on Buster's shoulder. "C'mon. The hot tub's at just the right temperature now, there's beer in the fridge and Kristen said something about ordering Thai. Let's go rinse off and relax."_ _

__"Okay." Buster pauses. "Love you."_ _

__"I'm pretty lovable." Before Buster can smack him, Matt adds, "love you too."_ _

___-end-_ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Rough Body Play" square of my Kink Bingo card.


End file.
